Dead Is The New Alive
by Shrubby Scribe
Summary: What was it that led Josh to become a Player in the Game? Implied character death.


Hello again, it's me back with another one-shot of twewy goodness. It's unbeta'd so I apologize for any mistakes I might not have caught. I was inspired by Emilie Autumn's album Opheliac while writing this.

I do not own anything related to The World Ends With You, I am simply borrowing characters from Square Enix.

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Life held no meaning to him. Since his childhood, Joshua was well aware of this fact. Perhaps it was because of the specters, more commonly referred to as "Players" among themselves, that made him believe this. Or it could have been the voice constantly in the back of his head. Always promising something better awaiting him. And all he had to do was pick up that knife, point that gun at his head, misplace his step on the stairwell, ignore the "do not walk" sign, lean a little too far over the rooftop's banister...

Joshua shook his head as he pulled away from his open window, ignoring the voice telling him to tumble out of it, and flopped onto his bed. As he stared up at the ceiling, the voice -deeper than his own and gravely around the edges- persisted. He was finding it more difficult to tune it out, the idea of being the ruler of the Players -the "Composer"- and immortality were starting to sound rather nice to Josh. He was only human, after all. And, as the voice so kindly put it, every human had a breaking point.

Tonight was possibly that night.

He tilted his head up to gaze over at his headboard, a few minutes stretching before he slowly slid his hand up the mattress and under the pillow resting further up the bed. His fingers brushed against cold metal and he pulled out the handgun he had "borrowed" from his parents. They had considered it misplaced and wouldn't begin to _think_ their sweet, innocent Yoshiya would take it.

He allowed a smirk, something which felt a bit too comfortable, to grace his lips as he sat up and turned the pistol to and fro in his hand, examining each side of the it and gazing at his distorted reflection on the metal.

It was loaded. Joshua had placed bullets in it the same night he had stolen it from his parent's cabinet.

He watched his hands move almost on their own accord, taking off the safety and turning the barrel of the gun towards himself. He stared down the hole, pretending he could see the bullet at the end of it. He could hear it again, the voice urging him on, to move his finger to the trigger and start a new life.

The gun drew closer and Josh closed his eyes -often mistaken for violet at first glance but that was impossible, right?- and jumped slightly as the cold metal bumped against his forehead.

_Pull it. Stop acting as though you belong among humans._

He pried one eye open to glance over at his bedroom door. His parents were out for the night so only the neighbors would possibly hear it. Not that it would matter, he would still be found in a pool of blood and brain matter whenever someone happened upon him.

He grimaced at the thought and mental image that accompanied it. Lovely.

If he managed to beat the Game, perhaps he could return to this life. He held no animosity toward his parents, the voice wasn't caused by them, they had done nothing but shower him with love since his birth. Yes, he would like to return to them, even if as a "Reaper." It couldn't be that difficult to manipulate memories.

_Pull the trigger. Take you proper place._

It was getting louder, clearer. Josh's hand was shaking. No, his entire body was trembling with fear and… anticipation? With one bullet, he was gambling his entire existence on whether or not it was real. The voices, the "Players," everything he believed to this point. What if he was actually crazy and everything was just in his head?

And if it was real, one false move in the Game meant Erasure. No second chances after that…

The barrel shifted slightly against his temple, bringing him back to the present situation. His finger was on the trigger and the voice was demanding he pull it, the bed sheets awaiting his blood to spill upon them…

_End it!_

The sound of the gunshot was louder than he expected.

It continued to ring in Joshua's ears even as he had faded into the darkness. He knew he had fallen on his back more from common sense than actually feeling it. He was already gone before he had fallen half of the way. But as darkness encompassed him, the voice seemed to follow him. Even in death he couldn't escape it. This time, though, it was his own voice; cruelly giggling in his ear and speaking only two words.

"_Game Start."_


End file.
